Reala, Rex Incuborum
by Lady Spritzy
Summary: Wizeman has risen before, and Reala believes he will rise again. To prepare for his master's return, Reala traverses the whole of the Night Dimension to recovered his lost brethren. As he delves deeper, however, he finds more than the scattered Nightmaren.
1. Prologue

_Pre-Story Notes: All_ NiGHTS _characters, places, situations, and ideas are property of SEGA. Other original content is my own. This story is rated T for violence and (possibly) language.  
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**Prologue**

Darkness. If there is one thing I have learned, it is that all things begin in darkness. The day starts at midnight. Pups and babes are blind at birth before blinking in the sun. Humanity drags itself from the morass of ignorance into the light of truth. All of that, from darkness.

I am from, and am of, darkness. All nightmares are. I can see where all others are blind. I can navigate what is clouded to others. I can, with ease, overcome that which has long been my home.

However, even I cannot surmount the trapping tar of unconsciousness.

My mind is hazy as I regain myself. Vaguely, I remember what I am—a Nightmaren. I cling to that concept as my eyes open. Somewhere nearby, I can hear something rustling. Is that the wind? The sky above me is dark, sprinkled with a few dim stars. In my mouth there is the scent of salt.

With a groan, I struggle upright. Nightmaren—what was that again? After a short exertion, I fold my long legs and gratefully dump my hands into my lap. God, I feel as though every bone in my body has combusted. My face contorts as I try to remember what I am—what a Nightmaren is.

Golden claws gleam up at me, trying to pull my mind from the question at hand. Despite myself, I lift a hand—quite the Herculean effort—and stare at the shimmering phalanges. They are mesmerizing, and my exhaustion seems to fade as I gaze at them. A small wind brushes past, and across my chest something slides. For a moment, I stare at the alien thing that fits loosely on my torso before remembering what the tattered jacket is.

With that mystery solved, I look to the sky, wondering if it will have my answers. Images pass through the fog in my mind, and an incessant hum lingers in my skull. Even after a vigorous shake of my head, the buzz does not recede. My hand clutches my face, an irritated sigh hissing through my fingers. For what seems like hours I sit, trying to clear my mind and failing.

In defeat, I free my skull from my grasp, wearily scanning the coarse sand around me. Rock and grass are scattered from here to the horizon, and the dark landscape is a monotonous clutter in all directions. Before me is spread a dark sheet of ocean, gently playing tug-of-war with the beach.

Reala. That was my name—is my name. The knowledge strikes so swiftly that I bury my countenance in my hands again. Once more, my skull buzzes, though this time I can pick some truths from the swarm.

Although I still cannot remember what a Nightmaren is or what it does, I can remember there are others. There was one, little more than a half-complete suit of armor. Another was monstrous, a mix of aristocracy and arachnid. And yet another was a fierce dragon, jagged in pattern and fang. And there was one that was a dog—no, three dogs. I shudder instinctively.

As I try to remember more I gaze again at the sky. My eyes lock onto the moon, proud queen of the night. She is in full regalia, shining brightly so that all may behold her splendor. I can feel the involuntary smile on my lips. At some point I knew some other female, just as bright...

Traitor! She was a traitor. Her name eludes me, but she looked just like me. Was that by chance? No. No, she was my twin. And she betrayed us. Wait, who are we? It does not matter, she betrayed us—betrayed me. And not only once, but twice! How did we survive the first blow?

Vehemently, I claw at my forehead, trying to dig the answers out. They are all there, lined up in the fog and refusing to come forward. Once one is pulled, the rest will fall into place, I know it. But grasping even one thought from the rush in my mind is like trying to snag an oiled eel from the river.

A single image comes to mind, making the first crack in the dam. Smiling. She is smiling. Her mouth is tilted ever-so-slightly. She seems happy, or at least content. But her eyes scream a different story.

"Are you disappointed in me, NiGHTS?" I whisper, gazing at the trail of white foam left by the waves. Whatever guilt I fleetingly felt from this notion is washed away by an immense fear. I failed the Master!

With renewed energy, I leap to my feet. Where is Master Wizeman? My mind reels as the rest of my memories flood back. This happened before, once, when NiGHTS betrayed the Master.

But she could not kill him! Last time, he returned after just a short absence. If only we had been prepared for his return, then this tragedy could not have recurred. Perhaps there is time before the Master returns again to regather the Nightmaren.

I eye the quiet ocean, recalling just how hazardous the waters are. Similar dangers can be found all across the Night Dimension, and the greatest trap for a Maren is Nightopia. In the past, the light has been our downfall—how could we avoid that?

Eagerly, I rise, hovering higher off the ground until I can see beyond this abandoned beach. From the ground, something glimmers invitingly at me—something familiar. I drop, my boots crunching in the sand as I land. Gingerly, I kneel beside the golden trinket—a dusty mask. With ease and gentility, I lift the discarded object from the dirt and delicately brush sand from the dark fathers around its fringes.

Mesmerized by its shimmer, I cannot help but put it on. My regret is instant—my face is burning. It clings to my skull, and immense fatigue crushes me like a boulder. Scrabbling, my claws have trouble finding purchase on the damnable thing. Finally, one finger catches between my face and the mask. The thing clutches tighter, and only after a struggle do more of my claws worm underneath it.

With a grunt, I wrench the mask free, staring at it. My skin stings in contact with the cursed metal. I can feel my mouth curl in disgust. Before I think about it any longer, I fling it from me, listening to its distant splash.

"Probably the traitor's," I spit, turning on my heel and taking off, surging towards the dark horizon of Nightmare.

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_AN: This is a story idea I've been wanting to do for years now, and even attempted at one point in high school. However, I was not happy with it, so I'm giving it another shot._

_As I am,_

_Lady Spritzy_

_3/27/2014_


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It has been too long since I've been home to Nightmare. The heavy atmosphere presses upon me like a soft blanket, and the darkness does not burn my eyes. Below me, the ground is dead, and above, the clouds are rumbling. I can see the muddy trail of a stream oozing across the land. A small smile crosses my lips.

Every now and then, I fly over some desperate, low-leveled Nightmaren as it scrounges. Something about the sight hits me in the chest. None of this would have happened had NiGHTS not wounded the Master. I bank, soaring away from these dead plains and aiming for the mountains—maybe I will find one of my brethren there.

Shadows from the jagged peaks greet me long before I even glimpse the foothills. My speed increases in the invigorating darkness. Below, the landscape zips past. I have yet a way to go before reaching the mountains, not to mention how much effort will have to be put into finding the other Nightmaren that might be there. The wretched, twisted trees dotting the plains start to cluster together as I pass. This occurrence happens occasionally at first, then frequently, and before long there is a bare-wood forest below.

However, I still do not see the foothills, let alone the mountains.

Slowly, I descend, getting close enough to the many scarred arbors that I may see beneath their bony canopy. The floor of the forest is just as cragly as the vast savanna and almost as barren. For a while, I simply keep my eyes cast downwards, blank-minded as I scan between the trees for my siblings. I glance up occasionally, though it is still a while before I glimpse foothills on the horizon.

Although the mountains seem to loom overhead, I am still a ways off from the foothills. My eyes remain in the forest, and I sweep my gaze back and forth, trying to snag any sign of the others. Nothing seems to be out of place. The ancient trees are marred, yes, but they are old wounds. I need something fresher than that. To my left, there is nothing. On my right, all is normal. Ahead, everything seems fine.

A faint echo sounds, brushing past me on the wind. I halt, floating above the trees and straining my eyes in all directions. Silently, I land on the nearest branch, hoping for another noise. My claws dig into the bark as I bite my lower lip. Another scan of the horizon reveals nothing. A stiff breeze whispers by me, yielding no information.

With a grimace, I take off. Whatever that sound was, it most likely came from deeper in the foothills. I hold my head up into the wind as I speed towards the mountains. My arms, which I had instinctively held out like wings, drop to my sides. I shift my shoulders slightly, and my entire body follows. Twisting through the air, I become a bullet—no, a drill—in the sky. Though the world is careening around me, I lock onto the distant, looming mountains as I dart towards them.

Like a parachute, my arms snap out. With a wince, I instantly slow and come to a gentle halt. Below are the roiling foothills, while far behind me lies the vast forest. Like a wall the mountains rise up, losing themselves in the iron sky.

As I try to decide on my next course of action, I land. Small puffs of dirt rise and settle as I scan the area in all directions. The hills could easily hide one of my smaller brethren, or even perhaps one of the larger ones. With no luck I gaze into the horizon, and after a long, fruitless while, I take to the air once more. Perhaps I have traveled in the wrong direction. I shoot off again, but before I can get too far, I hear another noise. It is louder this time.

With little effort I reset my course and streak towards the sound. Though it is indiscernible, it is a low noise. As the wind threatens to deafen me, the sound rumbles again, closer. It seems familiar. The echo of it rattles me. I try to pull my arms in tighter and straighten myself, trying to make myself as aerodynamic as possible.

On the horizon I see a spark. I squint into the wind, willing myself to see more clearly. There is no way I can move quickly enough. Another spark, this one a different color, flashes between the hills. For some reason, it looks no closer. I frown in annoyance. Fatigue begins to tug at my extremities.

A jolting, high-pitched whine strikes my ears. I falter, nearly falling from the sky. Again, it sounds, dropping ice into my core. I have not heard that howl in ages: I had hoped to never hear it again. Lights reappear in the distance, and this time they are certainly closer.

At this distance, they appear as only spheres, but I know better. One is blue, another red, and the third is yellow. For a while, I am frozen in place. The lights, or rather the hounds, seem to be still. I wonder if they are still as ravenous as ever. In Nightmare's current state, I wouldn't doubt it. Should I gather them? After all, they are Nightmaren as well.

Perhaps I should wait until I have located other of my siblings. I would rather not risk my existence before finding at least one sentient Nightmaren to share my plan with.

Slowly I turn, judging the distance between myself and the mountains. I should be able to lose the hounds there. I glance between the distant lights and the looming mountains, making sure the former are not approaching. Without warning I start, throwing myself towards the shelter of rock. Out of the corner of my eye do I notice the lights but I ignore them, focusing only on the haven of rock.

The howl of the beasts hounds me, demands my attention. I ignore it. The wind rushes desperately pass me. Below the hills flatten into a blur. Before me the mountains loom, stealing the horizon. My eyes pick out crevices in the rock. I pray for one small enough to hide me. Strain pulls at me. I feel myself sink. Fatigue is forcing me to slow. I try to fight it, but gravity overpowers me.

As I land, my legs threaten to drop me, but I refuse to let them. I force them to pump, to run, though I am far slower on foot. I hear the hounds barking and howling. They will catch me.

Before long I hear the rhythmic clatter of chains. After that, the landslide of feet across the hard-packed ground. My own wavering footfalls patter in comparison. Then there is the deep flutter of panting as I stumble and fall. I cannot will myself to stand.

Blazing light washes over me. Though my back is to them, I know the hounds have crested the final hill between us. There is no strength left in my to lift my head, but they seem to have stopped atop the hill behind me. I wonder if they are confused at my sudden stillness. Silently, I hope they will move on.

That will not happen and I know it.

One—or perhaps all—of the hounds growls, the sound filling my ears and stomach. I lift my eyes, watching my shadow grow longer as they approach. The colors of their fires blend on the side of the next hill. I can feel their searing heat on my back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see blue claws. They are still growling.

I bite my lower lip and can feel my sharp teeth break the skin. My blood is bitter and discomforting.

Across my back I feel the beast's hot breath. I think it is trying to smell me. My muscles have all but frozen. I wonder if they can catch the sent of my blood, or my fear. Will that send them back into a frenzy? Maybe being torn to shreds would not be the worst demise. Perhaps they will remove my head first—after all, it is more solidly attached than it appears.

After a while, the hound's head rises and the creature snorts. Now that's odd. Though some of my strength has returned, I dare not move. I hear the rattle of their chain as they move. Their lights shift, and one of the hounds paces into my field of vision.

The creature towers above me, teeth bared. Its spiky, round body blazes blue atop its spindly legs. I glance up at its burning eyes, refusing to drop my gaze. If Master Wizeman could tame them, then so should I. The hound sticks its runed face in mine, long ears folded back as it growls. Holding steady, I sense the other two flanking me. My teeth bear instinctively, a habit I thought I had long ago broken. The creature snorted. So did I.

Before I know it I am on my feet. My eyes shift from hound to hound, holding onto each for what I hope is long enough. I can feel my claws flexing, ready to tear through whatever they can grasp. Muscles are taut, ready for action. These three could be tamed.

From my left, red springs. I lunge forward, grabbing blue by the jaws and wrestling its face to the side. I feel teeth clamp onto my boot and I lash out with my free foot. Snarls erupt in my ears as I fight with two of the hounds at once, trying to glimpse the third. Teeth are digging into my claws and the beast with my foot refuses to let go. I thrash violently, trying to pull at least one of them off their feet. Blue keeps whipping its head back and forth, finally wrenching free of my grasp.

Good. Perhaps I can liberate my leg. With a jerking motion I bring my fist down on the hound's skull. It appears the yellow has my boot. Where is red then? No matter. My claws meet flesh as I rend the creature's face and wrench at its jaws. Its muzzle and fluttering, fiery mane are flecked in grey and purple—my blood and his. With a roar, I tear its mouth open, vaguely aware of another hound snapping at me. As I free my limb I kick off of the creature. I am rewarded by the thud of one beast accidentally pouncing on the other.

The howl of pain is deafening and satisfying.

With a quick turn I watch as the yellow and red detach themselves. They snarl and return their attention to me. I bear my teeth at them in return. For a moment there is nothing but the sound of panting and the rumble of growls.

Blue lunges first. I roll out of the way, and streak towards red. Before I reach its snapping jaws, however, I bank, speeding away from the creatures. Where this energy comes from, I do not know, but it will not last forever. Another turn brings them into view. Odd, yellow has disappeared. In its place there is an orb.

The two remaining hounds situate themselves, glaring at me. Between them, the golden chain dangles from the blood-flecked, yellow orb. I feel myself list to my left. The hounds' heads moved in tight unison. I ignore them, the golden chain pulling my attention. How did NiGHTS...?

I shake my head violently, throwing myself off balance. The hounds below bark and yip. Excitement is clear in their voices. The chain rattles.

Before I know what I'm doing, I streak towards the bloodied ball. Teeth assault me from all angles. Flesh is torn away, but I keep my pace. Amidst the noise and light and movement dangles the glimmering orb. I twist into a drill dash, somehow keeping steady as the world careens around me. Finally, my claws connect with the sphere, and for an instant I stare at it, feeling the cool metal in my palms as my heavy boots swing around.

The moment is gone as I launch myself from it, shooting into the sky. Below me echoes a sickening thud as the two beasts are slammed into each other. Yelps of pain explode from the hounds as they struggle to untangle from one another. I can only imagine the difficulty of the task considering the porcupine nature of those beasts. With effort I turn to stare down at the Cerberus. Red is limping, and blue has rather ghastly wounds. Yellow has returned, though it does not move. They are flagging.

So, this is how to tame these beasts. No fine words, no promises of brighter days, no threats. Threats had to have conviction behind them. I feel my face set. Conviction. I can do that. This is for the Master, after all.

Renewed, and with a plan, I shoot towards the hounds. Just before their teeth close in on me, I halt—for an instant—and surge away. Snarls press upon me. Again, I repeat the process, and again I hear the fury of the beasts. Circling, I zigzag around, keeping yellow in my periphery. Though he refuses to disappear, to leave nothing but the sphere behind, I know patience is key. Perhaps he doesn't like to be watched?

The burst of strength that has been sustaining me is reaching its end. I feel gravity pulling at me again, with more furor than before. I will not let myself be dragged down yet. Blindly, I turn, surging towards yellow. Luck is with me, the beast is disappeared. Going low, should my body give out, I burst through the legs of the other hounds. With a metallic ring, I ricochet off the orb. Once more Cerberus cries out.

Not bothering with checking their condition, I swing back around. Yellow is still in hiding. Pulling from whatever reserves I had, I make a final dash for the orb, ignoring the aura surrounding it.

What a mistake.

In a flash, the hound surfaced from the orb, all snarls and teeth. There is no time for me to stop. With a thud, I slam into the spiked bulk of the creature. I cannot help but cry out as the wind is knocked from me and pain splits my torso. Howls fill my ears—cries of triumph.

"Not yet," I rumble. With the last of my strength, I slam my feet into the creature, shoving it bodily and disentangling myself from it in one swift movement. The howls of victory turned to yelps and whimpers as I hear bodies collide. I do not see it happen. I fall from the sky, collapsing on impact. If I have not succeeded by now, I never will.

I regain myself slowly, my vision filled with dirt. There is no doubt in my mind that I am laying in a puddle of my own blood. My body is simultaneously on fire and numb, and I can feel my heartbeat because of the pain that comes with each stroke. I count time by the number of beats.

The sound of approaching feet grows louder and stops. Heated snorts and panting batters me. I should probably be filled with dread of my imminent demise, but truly, I am too exhausted for that. I was just unlucky. Perhaps the Master will be understanding. Teeth close around me, but they are surprisingly gentle. Maybe the hounds are deciding how best to divvy me up. Hanging limp, because I can do no more, I see yellow and red eying me. With grunts, snorts, and yips, the creatures seem to be talking amongst themselves. Even blue chips in around me. Why haven't they eaten me yet?

Yellow vanishes with a rumble, leaving the glowing orb once again. Gently, blue drapes me across it. The cold metal is strangely inviting. I barely have it in me to speak, but there is something I must know.

"Help?" I mutter, looking at the remaining hounds. Red snorts, and blue nods. "Master?" Another snort, another nod. "Home," I command weakly. "We must find others."

The two glance at each other before nodding. Without a sound they take off, making sure to keep me slung across the orb between them.

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_AN: Well, this was a long time coming. This has been sitting, half-finished, on my computer for quite a while, even though I love the concept. Oh well, at least I have highly detailed notes for this story. Hope you follks enjoy!_

_As I Am,_

_Lady Spritzy_

_1/12/15_


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